


The Basterd Pass

by warmommy



Category: Inglourious Basterds
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Fluff, aquarium, happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 06:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13584105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmommy/pseuds/warmommy
Summary: From the Prompt Fairy:“Where are we going?” Hugo sounded irritated. Had it been anyone else he would’ve beaten the answer out of ‘em... but it was you behind the wheel, shrugging and giving him that shit-eating grin he secretly loved. He slumped in the passenger seat, sighing in defeat. Damn, you were stubborn. He loved that so goddamn much. His eyes widened when he saw the sign: New York Aquarium. He almost looked like a child when he turned to you... he was practically giddy. Well, as giddy as Stiglitz can be.





	The Basterd Pass

**Author's Note:**

> From the Prompt Fairy: 
> 
> “Where are we going?” Hugo sounded irritated. Had it been anyone else he would’ve beaten the answer out of ‘em... but it was you behind the wheel, shrugging and giving him that shit-eating grin he secretly loved. He slumped in the passenger seat, sighing in defeat. Damn, you were stubborn. He loved that so goddamn much. His eyes widened when he saw the sign: New York Aquarium. He almost looked like a child when he turned to you... he was practically giddy. Well, as giddy as Stiglitz can be.

You leaned over and kissed his cheek, thrilled with his reaction. “Happy birthday, my sweet murder baby. I love you.”

No one had ever done anything to celebrate his birthday before. Ever. Birthdays were just another day during the war. Everyone was so tired, focus was so far off that radar, you’d managed to turn twenty-seven during that time without ever seeing a balloon or singing a song. 

Hugo, though…He didn’t know his real age, even. He chose a date for his birthday to put on forms when he joined the Wehrmacht. With a heavy heart, you made yourself a promise that that day would always be sacred, that you would make up for thirty-some years of nothing every year for the rest of your husband’s life. 

Every year, the man of your dreams got to wake up on his birthday to someone who loved him more than anything singing a soft and gentle song, to kisses, hugs, and a heartfelt vow that you were so grateful and happy that he was alive. You made him breakfast, even though you were not so good at cooking, went to the shooting range with him, treated him like a fucking king. 

As he remained speechless, you cut the ignition and reached for his hand. “Look around. See anyone else here?”

“No…” Hugo peered around the parking lot. “Is it closed?”

“To everyone else, it is.” You smiled and accepted his grateful kiss. “The last thing I want is for you to be bothered by  _anyone_  else while you go through every last exhibit.”

“Basterd Pass?”

“Basterd Pass.” 

You had all agreed to use it sparingly so as not to take advantage of people and their businesses. You had no problem busting it out to make his day as best as it could be, though. 

“It’s also a Tuesday, so not their busiest time. Don’t worry about it, Perfection. Let’s go.”

Just the faintest curve of a smile as he exited the vehicle brought tears to your eyes and made your heart run wild.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find this and a lot more at my tumblr, warmommy.tumblr.com!


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